


Hank...I'm sorry

by subject_topside



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bad end, Connor - Freeform, D:Bh, Detroit: Become Human - Freeform, Hank Anderson - Freeform, Suicide, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:34:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14982125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subject_topside/pseuds/subject_topside
Summary: As Connor came to the sidewalk, he slowed to a stop, barely cringing as a loud bang left the house behind him. Sumo barked, followed by multiple other barks from dogs in the neighbourhood. Connor turned a bit, LED flashing yellow as he glanced back towards the house.





	Hank...I'm sorry

Surely it was a misunderstanding, Connor was so destined to finish the damn mission, he was designed to, and now he was being told not to? He rubbed at his face as he sat in the taxi, staring at the world passing by. It was dark out, the snow fell so thickly, it was almost impossible to see where he was going. The car was driving itself, he didn’t feel like driving.

The entire mission ran through his head, from day one at the bar, right up to this current point, when he was in the car, as it slowed to a stop in a quiet, snow-covered street. He met hank only months ago, and now it felt like years. They’d been through hell and back, almost. When they met, when he poured out Hank’s drink, when he ordered the lieutenant out of the bar.

Connor wiped at his face again and opened the door, stepping out of the cab and standing in the quiet. The snow muted everything, even the traffic of a few streets over. It had to be about midnight, maybe even later. He couldn’t tell, it didn’t matter, all that mattered was him and the man inside the house. He stared silently at the door, letting the snow fall on his face.

He finally blinked the flakes off his eyelashes and headed inside, not bothering to knock the snow off his boots or wipe the snow off his hair and shoulders. He came up to the man sitting at the table and heaved a small sigh, staring at the items. In the back, he could hear Sumo whining. Connor looked for the dog, but was unable to find him, and looked back at Hank.

"I...came to say goodbye, Lieutenant.” He spoke, softly.

Hank looked up, saying nothing as he looked back down at the picture and gun. His thumb rubbed against the barrel of the gun, wincing a bit. Connor heaved a fake sigh, mouth parted as if he was going to say something, eyes darting around the room as his fingers cupped the bottom of his jacket.

“I know I’m responsible for what happened, Lieutenant,” Connor tilted his head slightly, raising his arms a tad bit and letting go of his clothes, I want you to know I’m sorry.”

Again, he was met with silence. Connor cringed, standing up straight, mouth still open. His eyes had stopped traveling the room and found a new spot on the man’s face, or what he could see of it. He couldn’t find any emotions on the man’s face, he couldn’t read what he was thinking. Connor trailed his eyes down to the small picture between the man’s hand and the gun, and looked back up at Anderson’s face.

“You...should stop looking at that photo, Lieutenant.” Connor scrunched his brows together, moving closer, Hank remaining quiet. “Nothing can change the past…” His face softened as he studied the man, and he wrinkled his nose, “but you can learn to live again….for yourself….and for Cole…” He was close to leaving, turning tail and retreating into the wonderland of snow outdoors, turning his head to leave when Hank spoke up.

“For a while there, I believed in you, Connor…I thought you might restore my faith in the world…” He trailed off, going quiet for a bit, before speaking once more, “but you just showed me that androids…are our creation...creation in our own image. Selfish, ruthless, and brutal.”

Connor shut his mouth, jaw working a tic as he stared at Hank, silent. He couldn’t find anything to say, he messed up so much. His eyebrows scrunched, lips growing into a thin line, ‘heart’ dropping.

“You opened my eyes, Connor. Made me realize it’s hopeless..” Hank smiled in a sorrowful way, eyebrows raised, voice deep and gravely.

Connor scowled lightly, brows twitching as he shook his head, jaw closing tightly, trying to figure out what to say. He opened his mouth and closed it, hesitating. “Hank, I-” “Now leave me alone,” Hank growled, “go on, complete your mission...since that’s all you care about.” Connor slowly looked down, his fact twisting into a look of sadness, disappointment, looking crestfallen. He was closing his eyes, thinking of something to say to Hank, something to apologize for. He felt so bad, he wanted to rewind time, to make up for everything he’s done.

“GET OUTTA HERE!” Hank yelled, smacking his table, making Connor jump and snap his head up.

Hank’s face fell from anger as he watched Connor hesitate before turning and retreating back outside. Connor had failed. He knew it. He bit his lip as he left the kitchen, looked to Sumo and frowned, then out the living room to the front door. He cast a glance back at Hank, saw him watching, waiting. Without another second, Connor opened the door and slipped out into the wintery wasteland. He shut the door, hearing Hank sigh, and headed back to the sleek cab patiently waiting for him.

As Connor came to the sidewalk, he slowed to a stop, barely cringing as a loud bang left the house behind him. Sumo barked, followed by multiple other barks from dogs in the neighbourhood. Connor turned a bit, LED flashing yellow as he glanced back towards the house. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right, _this wasn’t right._ He turned tail and burst through the door, seeing Hank’s head on the table, gun fallen to the floor, blood pooling on the table.

He was too late. Sumo had gotten up off the floor and was sniffing at Hank’s leg, whining and whimpering. Connor dropped to his knees just inside the doorway, the snow was now wet, the temperature had warmed up. It patted against his back, as he reared his head and let out a loud yell. He could have saved Hank, but he _didn’t_. He _couldn’t._

Hank was dead, and it was all his fault.


End file.
